


Listening Ears

by embalmer56, sadistically_sweet



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, And Bruce, Bottle-Feeding, Bucky's a good hel'ber, Chocolate milk is the only good milk, Clint is also a tiny, Clint’s robot ears, Deaf Clint Barton, Diapers, Footie Pajamas, Gen, Mama Loki, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Papa Strange, Storytime, Team as Family, Tony is a smol, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and Nat, and thor, mentions of spanking, single swat spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-08-26 10:26:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16679866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embalmer56/pseuds/embalmer56, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadistically_sweet/pseuds/sadistically_sweet
Summary: Bedtimes are tough, even if you’re an Avenger.Especially if you’re an Avenger.





	1. Chapter 1

“Everyone under 90 is wearing a diaper to bed,” Steve grinned at Thor as the god laughed. “That includes you, Clinty.”

“I’m no’d a bay’bee, Stee’b!”

"You're right, you're not a baby." Steve ruffled his hair. "You just need a little help keeping your sheets dry."

“My s’eets is no’d nee’ hel’b!”

"Your sheets  _and_ your undies. None of them like being soggy."

"S'TEEB! THA'S R'OOD!"

“Shhh. Don’t shout.”

“I SHOU’D if you R’OOD!”

"I'm not being rude; I'm being hones--" Steve gets cut off when a suction-cup dart hits him right between the eyes and sticks there. "CLINT."

"DON'D SHOU'D!"

Steve pulled the dart off his forehead with an audible 'pop' and tossed it aside. "Who GAVE him that thing???" he grumbled, rubbing the red mark it left behind.

“My s’eets. A’cause they li’ge me.”

“You’re still wearing a pamp to bed.”

Clint looks like he’s going to mutiny, but starts to sniffle instead.

"Hey, c'mere big guy." Steve picks Clint up and sits him on his hip. "You get to pick out everything else. Your own jammies, your own bedtime cup, your bedtime buddy, and your story. Those are all choices that Clint gets to make for himself," Steve taps his nose.

“I pi’g jams an’ cu’b an’ fren’?” Clint stuttered out, trying to reign in the tears that were threatening to fall.

“So many choices to make.”

"S-So, so w-why go'dda wear d-dia'ber?" Clint stammered, reaching up to scrub at his eyes.

"Because sometimes it's better when other people can make those decisions." Steve gave Clint a little hike up on his hip and carried him to the kitchen, and pecked him on the cheek. "Let's go pick your cup. Then your jammies."

“Robi’ Hoo’ doesn’ wear dia’bers,” Clint cried.

“He did so. Under his red fur so you couldn’t see. Hand to God.” Steve opened the cabinet, “Which one, Clinty?”

“I wan’ dow’. I wan’ y’eave.”

Steve kissed his very wet cheek; “Kitties or froggies or space?”

“....’pace.”

"I like the space one, too," Steve said, picking up the cup with bright-colored, smiley-faced planets with a rocket ship flying between them. "You know, when I was a kid, I never thought rocket ships would be possible...and here we are, with half our family from space. Milk or juice, sport?"

“They doesn’ wear dia’bers in ‘pace.”

“Now that’s a big fat fib. You and I both know that Mantis wears diapers in space. And so do Tony and Peter.”

Clint pouted, his thumb making its way to his mouth; “Y’ooice.”

"Juice, got it. One juice coming up." Steve sat the cup on the counter, then Clint....but he kept his hands around Clint's waist. "Okay, so if I let go of you so I can pour your juice, are you gonna run off?"

Clint looked scandalized. "No!"

Steve looked skeptical. "You sure?" he asked, cocking one eyebrow. "Because if I let go, and you run off, you know I'm gonna have to smack that bottom?"

Clint pouted. "No'd gonna."

“Smacked bottoms hurt a lot worse when you don’t have a diaper on,” Steve reminded him as he tentatively took his hands off Clint’s waist.

“You chea’d! You ta’ge dia’bers off!”

“If word got out how mean I am they wouldn’t let me be Captain America anymore.”

“I knoooooow!”

"Yeah, soooo mean," Steve said, getting the apple juice from the refrigerator.

Clint perched on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, looking put-out. "Ca'bdain Span'g."

Steve barked a laugh; "Captain Spanks?? Ha, I like that!" he said with a cheesy grin as he poured Clint half a cup of juice. "What, Captain Spanks and his Diapered Avengers? Like the Muppet Babies you guys watch?" He moved to the sink and full the rest of the cup with cold water.

"Steeeeeeeeee'b," Clint whined. "No wa'der!"

“Clllliiiinnnnt, Yes water,” Steve screwed the lid onto the cup and offered it to Clint.

“I wan’ y’ooice, no’d wa’der. Wa’der is ‘s’gusing.”

“We didn’t have juice when I was little,” Steve groused, scooping Clint off the counter.

“Stee’b. Ish no’d a mi’yyon years ago. We ha’bs y’ots of y’ooice now.”

"Yeah, lots and lots of juice, and it's all full of lots and lots of sugar."

"Y'ah! Is'sa bes'd!" Clint took his cup and began taking big, deep gulps of it.

"And that means lots and lots of tinkles," Steve said.

Clint choked on a mouthful of juice and began to sputter and cough. "S-Stee'b! N-no!"

Steve gave Clints' back a couple of firms thumps to help him catch his breathe. "It's true...juice makes you pee. Water, too."

Clint frowned at his cup as if it had betrayed him. “Here, you c’n ha’b i'd.”

“Awww, don’t be that way, little bird. Tinkling is good for you.”

“You. Jus’. Say'ed!”

“I just said it’s better to tinkle in a diaper instead of in your underpants or sheets. Not to stop tinkling all together.” Steve walked them into Clint’s room.

“S’op saying tin’gle!”

Steve chuckled; "That’s fair. What Jammies do you want?”

"I wan'd Paw'trol!"

"Is that the one with the puppies?"

"Ye'sh, pubbies! Marsh'a an' Ro'ggy an' Sh'ace!"

"You know all the characters? Look at you!" Steve set Clint down on the floor and went through his 'Little' drawers, where he found the two-piece pajama set with puppies on them.

"Know aaaaaaallll'a pubbies," Clint said, chewing on the spout of his cup as he turned in a circle.

"I know, you're so smart like that." Steve grabbed one of Clint's night-time diapers. "Do you want to try and go potty like a big boy one more time before we change you?"

“Stee’b! My un'nerpan's is no’d you business!”

Steve bite his tongue to keep from laughing; “Do you have to potty, Clinty?”

Clint made his ‘thinking’ face; “Stee’b, I’m goin’ po’ddy a’fore I pu’d on jammies. Y’ike a big boy.” Clint nodded and headed into the bathroom, already shucking his pants.

Steve followed him, picking up the trail of clothes Clint left in his wake.

"Stee'b, no! I nee' p'iva'see!" Clint said, trying to push the door shut behind him.

"Ah-ah, no..." Steve easily pushed the door back open, even with Clint leaning against it with all his weight, grunting as he dug in his heels. "I know better than to leave you in a room with a toilet and a sink by yourself."

"You can'nah wat'sh!" Clint said, his cheeks going red, and stamped his foot.

"I won't watch. Look, I'll tun my back, okay?"

“Noooooo, Stee’b! D'is is n'ah aw’righ’d!” Clint stomped his foot again, “How I c’n y’earn ina’penance y’ike d'is?”

“No more parenting podcasts for you. Hurry up and potty.” Steve kept his back to Clint and the potty.

“You stun’ing my grow’f.”

"I'm going to stunt something else if you don't sit down and go potty," Steve said over his shoulder. "I'd better hear tinkles in the next five seconds, or--"

"Sto'b saying tin'gles!"

"Clint, I'm going to let someone else pick a story if you can't watch your attitude. Go potty, now."

Clint huffed, and turned towards the toilet.

"Sit down," Steve said without turning around.

“I’m no’d a bay’bee. Big boys pee s’an’ing ub!”

“Big boys in this house tinkle-“

“Stee’b.”

“-Pee sitting down.”

“You pee si’dding dow’?”

Steve opened his mouth to lie before remembering all the times he’d brought Clint into the bathroom with him. Partly to model good bathroom behavior, and partly because Clint couldn’t be left unattended without causing a catastrophe. “Just sit down, Clint.”

"I wan'd s'and u'b."

"If you turn your bottom towards me, I'm going to pop it."

Clint gasped and covered his bum with both hands. "NO!"

"Then sit on it and go pee."

"Stee'b!..."

"You're wasting story time. Hurry up."

Clint groaned, but flopped down on the toilet seat with a thud. He propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands, glaring.

"...I bet that hurt more than a spanking would have."

“No’d as mu’sh as my fee’yings,” Clint grumbled.

“Like I said, they’re g'unna take my spangly suit from me one day.”

“Why come you know abou’ podcas’, bu’d no’d abou’ y’ooice?”

“Priorities. I don’t hear any pee.”

“A’cause I can’nah go si’dding a’cause I’m no’d a bay'beeee!”

"You can go when you're sitting, you've done it before."

"Bu'd I can'nah go nows!"

Steve turned around. "Hm, maybe you just don't need to go now. C'mon, 'no'da bay'bee', let's get you dressed."

"Waaaaaai'd! I c'n go!"

Steve stood with his hands on his hips, waiting.

"Don'd y'ook!"

Steve sighed, rolled his eyes, then closed them. "Last chance, doodlebug."

“I d'un y’ike when you no’d nice a’me,” Clint pouted, talking loud to try and cover the sound of his ‘tinkles’. “I di’id!” Clint clapped his hands.

“I knew you could, good boy. Flush one time and then let’s wash your hands.” Steve peeked at Clint to see him rolling a ball of toilet paper around his fist. “Clint.”

"Wha'd???"

"That's way more paper than you need."

"I d'on wan' t'uch my bu'd."

Steve clenched his jaw. He was  _not_ going to laugh. "You don't need to wipe your butt...you didn't poop, did you?"

"NO!"

"Then all you need is one square--"

* _FLUSH_ *

Steve sighed. "Clint."

"You tol' me'a f'yush!! One time!"

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "If that clogs, I'm letting Tony use your head as a plunger."

"G'WOOOOOOOOSSSSSS!"

“Toilet water all over the floor because of a clog is also very gross.”

“Yea, wa’der is s’gusing. I tell you all'a times, Stee’b.”

“Man cannot live on Dr. Pepper alone, Clint.” Steve waved him over; “Come wash your hands please.”

“I d'un nee’ too. I din’nah t’uch my bu’d.”

“Every time you use the potty, you need to wash your hands,” Steve said, a large hand between Clint’s should blades guiding him along.

Clint approached the sink, his tiny face frowned up. "Aw'reddy had'da ba'f," he grumbled.

"This isn't a bath," Steve said, turning on the faucet. 

"I'd ha'b soa'b?"

"Well, yeah...you should use soap to wash your hands."

"Then is ba'f.”

Steve nodded, “Alright. But it’s the shortest bath of your life, so that’s okay, right?” He put a pump of hand soap onto Clint’s hands and then used his own to work up a lather. “You don’t like baths all of a sudden?”

“Ba’f’s is o’gay. Bu’d no’d two in one nigh’d!”

"Well, that's too bad because we're already done," Steve said, rinsing off Clint's hands. "And now the fun part."

Clint tilted his head up to look at Steve. "Fun par'd?"

"Yep. we...shake 'em dry!" Steve took Clints' wrists and shook his hands, flinging water all over the counter, the mirror, and themselves while Clint laughed at the surprise of it.

"You ma'ge a mess!" he giggled when Steve finally let go.

"Yeah, you're right, I did. So I'm gonna clean it up while you go sit on the bed and wait for me."

“A’w by myse’f?”

“Yeah.” Steve made loud kissy noises on Clint’s cheek, making him scrunch up. “Can you be a big boy and go wait for me?”

“I do’id!” Clint raced out of the bathroom and took a flying leap at the bed.

“I guess it’s to late to tell you not to run.”

"I didn' run!" Clint called into the bathroom.

"Don't fib," Steve called back as he took the small hand towel and wiped the counter off.

"I didn'!" Clint called back again, and found the remote for his TV on the nightstand. "STEE'B?"

"What?"

"WHA'D???"

Steve poked his head out into the room. "What are you shouting for???"

Clint pointed the remote at the TV. "How I wat'sh Paw'tol on'na tee'bee???"

“It’s not time for Paw Patrol.” Steve ducked back into the bathroom to avoid the sputtering indignant gasp.

“Stee’b! How you say tha’d?!”

“It was easy actually.” Steve tossed the damp towel into the hamper. “It’s time to settle down and get ready for bed.”

“Paw’tol se’ddle me.”

“You are clearly full of fibs tonight.”

"Is'sa tru'fe!!!"

Steve clicked off the bathroom light. "It's not time for Paw Patrol; it's time for jammies and a story," he said, and came to stand at the end of Clint's bed, in front of the TV, and patted the spot in front of him. "Scoot your boot down here, cowboy."

Clint groaned. "P'eeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase, Stee'b! Jus' ONE s'ow!"

"No, not just 'one' show....it's too late tonight. Come down here so we can cover your naked butt."

“Nooooo, Stee’b! C‘me on!”

“We can always skip the story if you’d prefer.” Steve shrugged and he unfolded Clint’s diaper. Yet it was an idle threat, and they both knew it.

“Stee’b, we c’n ma’ge a deal?”

“You have exactly zero bargaining chips right now, Clint.”

Clint waved the remote at him to hush him; “ONE s’ow for a dia’ber.”

"One diaper for an unspanked bottom."

"STEE'B! NO!"

"Clint, yes."

Clint flopped backwards onto his bed. "Ton'ee y'ets me wat'sh!!!"

"Tony's getting his own diaper and jammies on tonight," Steve said, and grabbed Clint's ankle. "You are testing my patience tonight, kiddo," he added, and dragged Clint down to the end of the bed.

“Noooo, Stee’b! St'ahp!” Clint wriggled ineffectively.

“This is exactly why it’s bedtime, little mister.” Steve lifted Clint’s bum off the bed and dropped it again onto the diaper.

“Why you ha’de pu’bbies?” Clint cried, going completely limp. There was no muscling his way out of this.

“I don’t hate 'pu’bbies'.”

"Then, then, then why no'd we wat'sh???" Clint scrubbed his fist across his eyes.

Steve sprinkled powder all over Clint's bits and bobs. "Because," he sighed, pulling up the front of the bub's diaper and pulling the tapes snug; "It's too late tonight, and I'm mean."

"Mean," Clint repeated, heartbroken. "Mea', mea' mea' mea'."

Steve worked Clint's pajama bottoms over his feet and up around his waist, then sat him up. "You're such a tired bean," he said quietly, and reached down to pick Clint's abandoned cup from off the floor. "And I'm mean," he added, putting it in the baby's hands.

"Mea'," Clint hiccuped, putting the spout in his mouth and going quiet.

Steve put his hands on his knees and crouched down to Clint's level. "Still want a story tonight, little buddy?"

"Y-y'ah."

Steve smiled and kissed his forehead. "Okay," he said, and stood up.

Clint watched tearfully as Steve walked over to the door, and reached up to push the button on the intercom.

"Avenger's Assemble for story time; it's Clint's night to pick.”


	2. Chapter 2

“No’body y’ikes when is my turn.”

“Are you kidding? Who doesn’t want to read the jungle book six times in a row?”

“I y’ub Ba’yoo!”

“You should. He’s amazing.”

“He marry a pa’m’fer!”

“They did live happily ever after. Should we read that again,” Steve hefted Clint onto his hip and carried him to the bookshelf so he could choose.

Clint snuggled in close, nose pressed against Steve’s neck; “Maybe dif’ren’ d'is time.”

"You pick whatever story you love the most, baby bird." Steve kissed the top of Clint's head and stood there before the bookshelf, swaying them gently back and forth. "Even if it's one we've heard more than once. Favorite stories don't have expiration dates."

Clint hummed and sat up. "Ummmmmm...d'is one," he said, picking out a book and handing it to Steve.

"Dumbo," Steve read. "You know, I haven't watched this movie yet."

"I y'ike i'd. S'go'd a'binals."

"I like animals, too." Steve carried Clint out of the room and down the hallway towards the nursery, where everyone would be arriving shortly. He kissed the top of Clint's head again, and looked up; "There you are, I was wondering where you went."

Just ahead of them, coming down the opposite side of the hall, was Stephen...with a very tiny Tony held to his chest, and the Cloak cradling him like a baby sling. Behind them, trailing a soft, grey blanket --his b'anky--was Bucky.

"Yes, he followed us to our room," Stephen said, looking back over his shoulder. "And was a huge help in getting this one bathed and changed," he added, giving Tony a bounce.

“Good job, Buck,” Steve smiled at him.

Bucky blushed and hide part of his face with his b’anky. “I y’ige To’nee.”

“Booooooo’g!” Tasha shrieked as she raced into the room.

“Hi Na’d!” Clint squeaked, wiggling to be put down.

“Natasha! It’s time to settle down!” Loki said, carrying Bruce cuddled close.

“She bite’ed me!”

“I say so’rry, F’or!”

Loki frowned at her. "Natasha," he said, sternly.

Nat stopped in her tracks and looked up at Loki, all doe-eyes and pure innocence until Loki, in perfect, unflinching Russian, said something that made her pout and nod her head, then went to perch herself on one of the big, plush pillows on the floor.

Steve let Clint down before he dropped his wriggling charge, and watched with a fond smile as he toddled right over to Natasha. "What did you say to her?" he asked Loki, curious.

"I told her that I was going to send her to bed by herself, with NO story, if she couldn't behave."

"Ouch."

"She has been warned." Loki turned to Thor; "Here, take Bruce and go find a seat," he said, passing down the wide-eyed, curly-haired little man to his brother.

“They're all wound up. I had to say something similar to Tony," Stephen added.

“Clint too. It’s been a long week.”

“Speaking of Clint, what book has he selected?” Loki tried to make his face impassive, but failed. “That jungle child is beginning to get on my nerves.”

Steve chuckled; “He picked Dumbo.”

“Perfect. Never heard of it,” Loki said, walking over to the puppy pile of babies.

Steve started to follow after him, but a tug at his sleeve made him stop and look down.

Tony had reached out of his magical cloth baby harness and had snagged the bottom of Steve's sleeve, and was looking awfully proud of himself for it.

Steve grinned big and took his hand; "Hey little man," he said, and kissed the back of Tony's knuckles.

Tony's smile grew bigger and he gurgled at Steve.

"Charmer," Stephen muttered, patting Tony's backside through the Cloak. "Before I sit down," he said to the group of little ones all rolling over each other; "Who wants a cup?"

There was a loud chorus of "ME!!!!"s, even from Clint (even though he already had a cup right in his hand), and Stephen started to walk to the little kitchenette at the side of the room.

"I c'n hel'b," Bucky said, trotting after him, blanket still hugged to his chest.

“That would be lovely, thank you, Bucky. Can you pick out cups for everyone while I get the milk?”

“No mil’g! A’mon’s!”

“Tasha.”

“P’ease a’mon’s! Ste’ben. A’mon’s.”

“Almond milk for Natasha-“

“F’ank’oo!!!”

“Is everyone else alright with regular milk?”

Tony babbled at him, before giving him a toothy grin.

“I know you are, silly boy.” Stephen smooched his forehead.

“Cho’g’yate mil’g?” Clint asked, causing all the other Littles to go "OooOOoohhhHh!"

Both Steve and Stephen interrupted with a loud "NO", and the chorus of 'oohs' from the little ones turned into disappointed groans of "Awwwwwww".

"Why no'd???" Clint whined as he got up onto his knees and clambered his way over the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor to get to Steve's lap. "Why no'd, Stee'b???"

"Because, it's too late for chocolate milk."

"Cho'ckate is good all'a time!" Nat piped up, while Thor joined in with a "YEAH!"

Bruce just sat at Loki's feet, sucking on his fingers and watching.

"Not for little ones, not at night, and not on top of almost every clean blanket and pillow in the compound," Stephen said as he brought over four cups, with Bucky trailing behind and carrying two bottles...one of which he handed to Loki. "Fo' B'wuce," he said.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Come here, little one. Look what Bucky has brought for you,” Loki said.

Bruce made tiny whimper sounds and reached for the bottle.

“Come here, dear one,” Loki handed Bruce the bottle and tugged the tiny scientist onto his lap.

“A’mon’s, Ste’ben?”

“Almond milk for Natasha.”

“Ye’yyow cu’b is no’d my fa’brite bu’d tha's o’gay,” she said, taking the cup and wriggling down further into the nest she’d made for herself.

“Clint already has a cup?”

“Does n'ah ha’b cho’gyate mil’g in'nit.”

“Neither does this one.” Stephen traded cups with him and magicked the dirty one into the sink.

Clint frowned down at his cup, then waved it at Steve sadly in one last plea bargain; "Steeeeee'b, p'ease?" he asked, his bottom lip poking out.

"No."

Clint sighed; "Tha'd ma'ges me b'ery sad."

"And I'm very sorry. You can have chocolate milk in the morning," Steve said as Stephen finished passing out the cups and then came to sit down heavily beside him on the couch, with Tony still bundled in his lap.

Bucky stumbled his way over the pillows and blankets as he toddled after Stephen, and squeezed himself in between him and Steve.

“Who’s y’eadin’ my boo’g?”

“Not it!” “Not it!” Steve and Stephen said at once.

Loki glanced up from Bruce to see all eyes expectantly on him. “...What?”

“It’s your turn to read the story.”

“You're the only one not bottle feeding an infant," Loki pointed out; "It should be your turn.”

Steve frowned. “Maybe Clint should read the book, since he picked it out.”

“I do’id!” Clint hooted, tugging the book into his lap. “O’gay. Ba’g when Stee’b wa’sh a bay’bee, they ha’b f’ings call a cir’cuss.”

"Okay, but wait a minute," Steve said, holding up a finger. "We still have circuses.  _You_ worked at a circus," he told Clint.

"No, I didn'," Clint said, turning the page.

Steve shot Stephen a dirty look when the other man chuckled, and had just opened his mouth to start scolding Clint for fibbing again when Thor crawled over to Clint's side; "Wai'd! I missed the pig'shurs!" he protested.

"I didn' see, ei'ver!" Nat added, moving to his other side.

"I 'mem'er a cir'gus," Bucky said, craning his neck to see the book in Clint's lap.

“In'na cir’cuss, you ge’d y’ots of games an’ toys an’ sna’gs!” Clint practically glowed at the rapt attention. “Bes’ u’b all! They go’ds a’binals! Pa’m’fers an’ tigers an’ bears! And ele’bants!” He clumsily turned the page of the book, pointing at all the different animals. “All'a peo’ble an’ all'a a’binals do tri’gs.”

“Why?”

“A’cause tha’ds wha’d you do in a cir’cuss.”

"A'cause why?" Thor asked again, lifting the corner of the page to peek back at the previous picture.

"Clint, sweetheart, hold the book so everyone can see the pictures," Steve said, one hand absently twirling Bucky's ponytail around a finger.

"A'cause, um, i'd made peo'bles ha'bby," Bucky said to Thor.

"Wha'd?"

"See'in all'a tri'gs. An' a c'yowns."

Clint made a face. "C'yowns is jer'gs," he said.  


"Clint," Steve warned.

“You know any c’yowns, Stee’b?”

“Personally? No.”

“No. A’cause they is jer’gs,” Clint sniffed and turned back to the book. “All'a a’binals ma’ge y’ots u’b bay’bees!”

All the Littles awwww’d over the pictures of the baby animals.

“One bay’bee is a ele’bant name Dumbo!”

"I dun' y'ike tha'd name," Bucky said, looking up at Steve.

"Yeah, it's not a very nice name, is it?" Steve replied.

Clint sighed loudly; "C'n I P'YEASE rea' my s'dory now???"

Bruce, who had dozed off under Loki's careful attention, startled awake and spit his bottle out, then began to fuss.

Loki arched his eyebrow and looked over at Steve wordlessly.

Steve cleared his throat. "Clint, be nice."

"I y'am! Bu'd I can'nah read wi'f all'a tal'ging!"

"That doesn't mean you need to shout."

Clint frowned, unaware he’d been too loud. “Anyways. Dumbo ha’bs b’ery big ears an’ they wor’g b’ery goo’.”

Steve sighed, and dropped a kiss on the top Clint’s head. 

“A’fing is, other ele’bants was mean a Dumbo a’cause he was dif’ren. An’ when his momma figh’d them she go’ed to ele’bants jail.”

The other Littles looked stricken...all except Bruce, who was already snoozing again with Loki patting his back.

Natasha's bottom lip wobbled; "...Ele'ban's jail?"

"Wa's ele'ban's jail?" Thor asked.

"They putt'ed her in'na cage," Clint said, and showed Thor the accompanying picture of Dumbo's mother peering out from between a set of iron bars sadly.

Thor's mouth dropped open. "Bu'd, bu'd, tha'ds no'd fair!"

Clint shrugged. "I'ds wha'd ha'bbens."

Nat scooted closer to Loki's leg and wrapped her arm around it. "Is a ha'bby en'ing?"

"I don't know, pet," Loki said, reaching down to pet her hair. "We'll have to listen to find out."

Beside Steve and Bucky, Tony had finally had enough of his bottle and was starting to squirm.

"I knew you'd be getting antsy," Stephen murmured, sitting him up against his shoulder and patting his back.

Steve grinned, remembering when he'd been in the exact same position. "Yeah, he always got a little--"

"A little gassy after a bottle, yes," Stephen said. "Still does.”

Tony burped against the side of Stephen’s face, then cooed in delight.

“Good to know some things never change,” Steve chuckled.

“A’cause e’berybo’dy in'na cir’cuss ha’bs a job. They gi’be Dumbo a job too, e’ben tho' he’s a bay’bee.”

“Steven, this story better lighten up. Quickly," Loki said, glaring at him out of the corner of his eye.

“It ends up a bit morally gray, but it works out.”

“Sssssssss,” Clint hushed them. “Dun’ y’uin the s’dory.”

The Cloak loosened a corner of itself and wiped Stephen's cheek, then the corner of Tony's mouth...which the little one took to mean as an open invitation, because before the Cloak could pull away, Tony had it gripped in both hands and was starting to chew the corner of it.

The Cloak visibly shuddered and Stephen batted Tony's hands away. "Ah-ah, no, that's not for you," he said, fishing a pacifier out of his pants pocket. The Cloak looked relieved.

On the floor, Clint turned to the next page of the book; "OH, an' y'is is when Dum'mo ge'ds drun'g!"

Steve blinked; "...He gets what now," he asked, and very purposefully avoided looking in Loki's direction to avoid being visually stabbed.

“Drun’g! Stoo’bid c’yowns ass’iden’ally pu’d wines on Dum’mo’s wa’der an’ now he sees pin’g ele’bants tha’ds no’d there.”

Natasha grabbed the sleeve of Clint’s shirt and tugged; “Jus’ y’ike Bu’a’pes!”

“Steven. This story is hardly appropriate,” Loki said, nudging Natasha back into her seat with his foot.

Steve shrugged; “It was on the baby shelf.”

“Then! Dum’mo ha’bs a hango’ber. An’ he kin'a runs away? An’ he meets some crows! Crows is b’ery smar’d birbs.”

“Dum’mo Mama s’ill in jail?” Bucky asked.

"Y'uh," Clint said, and turned the page. "An', an' then Dum'mo is in'na cir'gus, a'cause his ears is big an' fun'nee an' they pu'd yot's o'b ma'ge-u'b on 'im."

"Ma'ge-u'b?" Thor peered over the edge of the book on his hands and knees.

"Y'ike a c'yown." Clint pointed at the picture. "An' then they putted 'im on to'b of'a house an' se'd i'd on fire!"

Loki's head snapped up, glaring directly at Steve. "FIRE?!”

“Yea'. He ha’bs a jum’b off'a house cause id's on fire.”

“Clint...sweetheart...baby bird. Maybe we should pick a different book.”

“Awwwwwww, why? I'ds ge’dding to the goo’ par’d, Stee’b!”

“We gotta sa’be his Mama,” Bucky said, eyes wide and wet.

“How i'd ends, C’yint?”

Stephen interrupted; “It really does turn out alright. It’s a very old story. They thought very differently about children and what they should be exposed to back then.”

"SssshhhhSHHHHHHSSSShh!!" Clint shushed them all loudly, covering half the book in a fine spray of saliva. "Ye't me READ."

The whole room went quiet...well, almost quiet, until Tony imitated Clint and made a loud "SssssssssSSSSsss!" noise and clapped, with slobber dribbling down his chin.

"Clint. Volume."

"My vah'yume is FINE."Clint turned the page, and Steve was glad to see there were only two pages left. "SEE?!" he said, showing them all the picture. "Dum'mo's a HERO an' sa'bes eb'erybo'yee!!!"

“He’s a th’uper hero!” Thor cheered, causing a ruckus amongst the other Littles.

“Sssssshhhh!” Loki scolded; “...don’t wake the baby.” Luckily, Bruce was truly asleep.

“Y’oki! Ele’ban’ sa’be the day!” Natasha squeaked, trying to climb onto his lap next to Bruce.

“Yes, I see. But celebrate quietly, please.”

“I tole you is a goo’ boo’g. Y’ook, Bu’ggy...Dum’mo’s Mama ge’ds the bes’ sea’d in'na train.”

“I y’ike t’wains," Bucky said, without missing a beat.

Steve pinched his lips together and put his arm around Bucky, squishing him to his side, and kissed his temple.

"Alright, story's over," Loki said, standing up with Bruce still laying on his shoulder. "Time for bed."

"Noooooooooo!" every single Little (minus Bruce and Tony) groaned.

"C'n we ha'b one mo', p'ease?" Natasha pleaded, looking to Steve and Stephen for help. "Jus' a shor'd one?"

"Y'ah, a shor'd one?" Thor repeated, squeezing his fingers together in front of his face to show them just how 'short' they meant.

"Baby, it's late..." Steve said, albeit half-heartedly.

"Jus' ooooonnnnnneeeee," Nat whined. "P'eeeeease???"

Bucky tilted his head back and peered up at Steve. "I coul' y'isten a' one mo'," he said, as if it were an executive decision.

“Well...”

“Sucker,” Stephen chuckled. “If there’s to be one more, it needs to be a positive one.”

“I’m putting this one to bed. I will be back for you two in ten minutes,” Loki said, heading out the door. Most nights Bruce slept in a crib next to Loki’s bed.

“O’gay! Bye Mama!” Natasha called after him, already scurrying for the bookcase.

“What about Goodnight Moon?”

"No! No Goo'nigh'!" Natasha started pulling books off the shelf and setting them aside.

"You'd better have all of those back on the shelf before Mama gets back," Steve cautioned, then turned his attention to Clint, who was patting his knee. "What, baby?"

"Di' you y'ike my s'dory, Stee'b?" Clint asked, his eyes wide.

"I loved it. You're such a good storyteller." Steve bent down and kissed Clint's forehead while the little guy blushed at the praise.

Beside them, Stephen stood up and stretched his back with a groan. "Perfect timing," he said, patting Tony's bottom, and carried him over to the row of changing tables on the other side of the room. "If anyone needs the potty, speak up now or forever hold your pee's," he called back.


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh! I got'sa go!” Thor shouted, nearly tripping over the blanket wrapped around his feet to get to the bathroom. 

“What about you, Clinty?” Steve asked, leaning in close and whispering the rest; “Still dry?”

Clint blushed all the harder. “Yea'. Dry.”

“I haf'ta potty, too.” Bucky shook his empty cup and then handed it to Steve; “Can I ha’b more mil’g, p’yease?”

“Liquids this late might be a problem, buddy.”

"I'ds o'gay, Stee'b...I c'n han'le i'd," Bucky said in that solemn way of his, and Steve had to grin...even in his Little headspace, with his Little voice, Bucky always sounded so serious.

"I know you can handle it-" Steve said, "but can your diaper?"

Bucky blushed the same shade of red as his sleeper. "Steeeeeee'b!"

Across the room, while Steve laughed, Stephen groaned. "Ugh...you stink," he told Tony as he taped his fresh, new diaper on him. "You know that? I think you do." Stephen bent down and kissed Tony's bare tummy, tickling him with his goatee. "I think you do it on purpose."

“Nnnnnn-n-n-n!!!!!!” Tony giggled and scrunched to cover his belly.

“You stinky little bot-bot.”

“Stee’b! We rea’ Bam’i?” Natasha showed him the book.

“ _Noooo_. Light-hearted, Nat.” Steve patted Clint’s hip and got up to help Natasha pick ‘one more' story.

“Wat’ss Bambi?” Thor asked, wiping his freshly washed hands down the front of his shirt.

“Foo’ wi’f fee’yings,” Clint cackled.

Steve looked back over his shoulder, a stack of books in his hand. "Clint," he said, in 'that' tone. "Jeeze."

Clint just covered his mouth and giggled mischievously, while Thor tilted his head at him like a confused puppy. 

Stephen sat Tony up and the Cloak had just begun to rewrap him in his baby-sling hold, when Tony started to frown and squeak.

"What, what is it, little man?" Stephen asked. "Use your words. Tell Daddy what you want."

"Dow'!" Tony squeaked insistently while waving his arms and pointing at the floor. "Dow' dow' dow'!"

"It's not playtime. It's 'settle down and go to sleep time'."

"DOW'!"

Stephen rolled his eyes and then waved two fingers at the Cloak, who lowered Tony to the floor.

Tony was off like a shot, crawling to the other Littles in nothing but his 'Daddy's Rock Star' t-shirt and diaper.

"Brat," Stephen muttered, even though he was smiling....smiling, at least until he caught the 'look' the Cloak was giving him. "What, would you rather he start screaming? Pick your battles," he said, and followed Tony.

“C’yi’t! C’yiiiiii’t!” Tony howled, bowling Clint over to hug him.

“Hi Ton’ee! You smell b’ery nice! Di’ Ste’ben use all'a po’wer on your bu’dd?”

Tony nodded solemnly before climbing over Clint, barely missing his pamper parts to sit on Bucky’s lap.

“I f’ink d’is is a goo’ boo’g you guise,” Nat said, toddling over to the baby pile. “Di’ you know mouses yike panca’ges?”

"Pan'cages?" Thor asked, his face lighting up. "I l'ub pan'cages!!"

Steve put the last of the books back on the shelf, because as much as he knew he should have made Natasha go back and put them away herself, he didn't want to fuss or see her get into trouble. "Hey, I know that book."

"That book reminds me of several little mice in this very room," Stephen said...he'd made a detour back into the small kitchenette in the opposite corner of the room, and had gotten himself a Coke. He sat and offered Steve a Dr. Pepper. 

Steve cocked his eyebrow at him.

Stephen shrugged. "I was sick of milk; thought you might be, too."

“Po’b! I wan’ po’b, p’yease!” Clint said, bouncing off his pillow and hopping next to Steve’s side.

“Look what you did,” Steve scolded Stephen.

“I'sh my fa’brite, Stee’b! Jus’ a y’ittle bi’d? A si’b?”

“Clint.”

“My f’roa’d is sooo dry.”

“Clint, are you going to read us this story or shall we all go to bed,” Stephen asked.

“C’yiiiii’ttt,” Tony cooed, patting the pillow next to him and Bucky.

Stephen popped the tab on his drink. "Bucky."

Bucky peered up at him.

"Did you go potty?"

"Oh! No, I didn'." Bucky strained his neck backwards to keep Tony from poking him in the eye.

"Why not? You said you had to go."

"I jus' didn'."

"Do you need help?" Steve ventured, moving his can of soda out of Clint's reach.

"No."

“Do you need to be changed?”

“No, f’ank’oo!” Clint, Nat, and Thor said in unison. Bucky just blushed and hid behind Tony.

“Clint. Do you need a timeout?” Steve held up one arm, Clint dangling from his bicep as he tried to climb up Steve to get to the can of soda.

“You shoul’ share, Stee’b.”

“You should use your listening ears, Clint,” Steve said...and then internally kicked his own ass for being so damn _oblivious_.

"Everybody should be doing their best to use their listening ears," Stephen said quickly, once he saw the wince on Steve's face; "because we're about to start the next story, once everyone has gone potty and gets snuggled up with their buddies." He stood up and scooted Tony out of Bucky's lap and sat the tiny billionaire on the floor. "You behave," he said, kissing the little guys' forehead, and took Bucky's hand. "Let's go get comfortable," Stephen said, and helped him up from the floor.

Steve watched them walk over to the changing area again and then looked down at Clint, who'd gone quiet at his side, arms still curled around his bicep. "Hey, baby bird, I'm sorry..."

"I ha'b my y'istenin' ears, Stee'b."

"I know you do. I wasn't thinking when I said that."

“My hear’ aids ha’bs new ba’dderies.”

“I remember. I helped put them in. I misspoke and that was not very nice of me...I’m sorry, Clinty.”

Clint slide off Steve’s arm, dropping six inches to the floor; “Tha’ds o’gay.”

Steve frowned, knowing damn well it wasn’t okay.

“Ton’ee shoul’ rea’ the nex’ boo’g.”

Tony, who’d been investigating Tasha’s sparkly toenail polish, looked up at his name and grinned.

"Tony should read, huh?"

"Y'ah!" Nat said, taking the book and putting it in Tony's lap. "Him ne'ber ge'ds a turn!"

Tony babbled happily and slapped his hands against the book's smooth surface.

Steve couldn't help but grin..he'd have to finish his talk with Clint later, with less people and less distractions. "Alright Tones, let's hear it."

"Thor, Natasha."

Heads turned towards the doorway. "Mama!" Nat chirped.

Loki held his hands out and waggled his fingers. "Bedtime, fledglings. Come along."

"Nooooooo!"

"We hab'nt e'ben started ye'd, br'uvver!"

"You haven't--? What have you been doing for the past ten minutes???"

“Ba’ffroom, pi’g a boo’g, tal’ging!” Natasha ticked off each activity on one hand and showed Loki three slim fingers. “Ton’ee is gunna rea’ the s’dory!”

“Tony-“

Tony squealed and put the corner of the book in his mouth, which made Steve nearly drop his soda can. “No, wait baby! That’s not yum.”

“Tony is too little to read the next story, which means it’s time for bed.”

"Nooooooooooo!" Nat moaned. "We s'pose a' ge'd one mo'! Stee'b say so!"

Loki cut eyes at Steve. "Did he?" he drawled.

Steve managed to get the book out of Tony's hands, making him shriek, and focused on wiping the drool from the corner of it. "Uh, yeah, Steve may have..." he said.

"He did indeed; I was right there when they suckered it out of him," Stephen said, holding Bucky's hand and guiding him as the little soldier stepped over piles of blankets and babies without stumbling.

Tony scrabbled over to Steve on his hands and knees, and then yanked the book out of his hands. " **MY!** " he shouted.

“Ah! No, no, no!” Stephen said, scooping Tony off the floor and giving him a single pop on the seat of his pamper. “That’s not okay, little man. You know better!”

Tony’s lip wobbled, but he steadfastly held the book to his chest. “My.”

“Yes, letting them up past their bedtime certainly seems to be working out well,” Loki smirked.

Steve frowned; “Can I please borrow your book, Tony?”

Tony shook his head and hugged his book tightly.The three pairs of eyes that were watching silently from the floor widened.

Stephen frowned; "Anthony Edward..." he began, the warning clear.

Loki stood with his arms folded over his chest, looking both smug and bemused.

Then, Bucky scooted over on his knees, where Tony could see him. "Ton'ee?" 

Tony continued to pout and hunker over his book protectively.

Bucky held out his hands; "C'n I see a boo'g, p'yease?"

Tony glanced at him, long eyelashes damp, “Bug’yee boo’?”

“Yea'. Our fren's wanna see the pig’tures.”

Tony glanced at the other littles' faces before slowly handing the book to Bucky. “My.”

“Yea'. Id’s s’ill yours’es. I’m jus’ borrowin’ i'd.” Bucky took the book and put a kiss on Tony’s cheek. “You gunna y’ook at pig’tures wi’f us?”

Tony stuck his fingers in his mouth to suck on, and nodded.

"Just a minute," Stephen said, and sat back down on the couch with Tony in his lap. "You pick a place to sit, sweetheart, and Tony will join you in a second," he told Bucky.

Then, he turned his attention back to Tony. "You," he said, making Tony pout and dip his head, his bottom lip poking out. "Ah-ah, that doesn't work on me. You know it's not nice to shout, and you _definitely_ know you don't take things from people without asking."

Tony glanced at Steve out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, you know what you did," Stephen added. "You need to tell Steve that you're sorry."

“S-ssss-“ Tony tried to say. Stephen gently pulled his fingers out of his mouth. “Try again.”

“Sa-sa, S’ee’b...” Tony turned his doe eyes on Steve.

“I accept your apology, squirt.”

Tony tilted his head back to peer up at Stephen; “Dow’?”

“You are very lucky that Steve is a soft touch, little boy,” Stephen said, putting the baby down.

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” Loki chimed in.

"You and Bruce both," Stephen added.

"Okay, now that's a low blow," Steve said. "I at least put them in time-out and make them stay the full time."

Stephen made a sound like he was trying to muffle a snort, but Loki full-on laughed as he sat down on Steve's other side and produced a glass of red wine out of thin air.

Tony crawled over to the puppy-pile of Littles, where Clint and Nat were curled up with each other in Thor's lap and Bucky sat tucked in at his side, then wedged himself in between Thor and Bucky and laid back, sucking his thumb.

"Who's gonna rea' a' s'dory now?????" Clint asked.

“I s’ill f’ink id shoul’ be Ton’ee,” Natasha said.

“Bu’ggy save the boo’g from drool. Bu’ggy rea’ the boo’g,” Thor said, half asleep under the comfortable weight of his friends.

Tony patted the cover of the book; “Bu’!”

Bucky blushed, but obediently opened the book and started to read.“If you gi’be a mouse a panca’ges, they’s gunna ask you for syr-syru’b.”

“He’s the only one of us who actually reads the stories instead of making them up.” Steve took a surreptitious sip of his very flat soda.

Tony pointed at a picture in the book. "My!" he said.

" _Shhhhhhh,_ " all three adults shushed him gently.

"Y'uh, id's a mow'sh," Bucky whispered, looking a little drowsy himself.

"They're all gonna fall asleep," Steve whispered.

"Yeah, give it five minutes," Stephen agreed.

Loki finished off his glass of wine with one last large mouthful. "I can carry both of mine back, deadweight...what about you two?"

"I've got mine covered," Steve said.

"I can carry Tony, at least...he's tiny," Stephen replied. "And I could float--wait, is Bucky sleeping with us, or with you tonight?" he asked, looking at Steve.

“It’s up to him. I don’t mind if he spends the night with you two, if you don’t mind.”

“He’s a charming little guy. It’s fine with me, and I know Tony would absolutely love it.”

The three caregivers glanced over to see that Tony had wriggled his way onto Bucky’s lap. He had one thumb in his mouth and his other hand tangled in Bucky’s sleeper.

"I'm just glad they're getting along now," Steve sighed.

"Mm," Stephen hummed through a mouthful of soda, then swallowed. "Tony told me," he said, and left it at that.

Soon, because it was indeed a very short book (and despite it being so), the sound of Bucky reading led to several pairs of eyelids drooping and, eventually, the sounds of light snores and slow, shallow breathing.

Bucky looked up from the last page; "I putted all'a e'bryone a'seep?" he asked the grown-ups.

"Yeah, because you're such a good reader," Steve whispered, and stood up.

"I y'am?"

"You are," Loki agreed, as he also stood and went to collect his pair of Little Ones. "I think that's my new favorite story." He bent down and started to untangle Clint and Natasha from one another.

“Mama?”  Natasha slurred, her eyes cracking open.  


“Yes, sweetling, come to Mama.”

Natasha yawned and wrapped an arm around Loki’s neck, immediately snuggling in. “Buh’bye, C’yint.”

Clint started to fuss, he’d been very warm and comfy.

“Poor guy, com’ere little bird. Let’s go lay down. We’ll get your babies and your blankies-” Steve scooped Clint up and held him against his shoulder as if he weighed nothing. “Are you sure you got him, Lok’s?”

Loki grunted...it was much easier to carry Thor when he was awake and ‘helping’ (i.e, helping hold on), but Loki finally lifted him by sheer force of will. Even with an arm under his bottom, Thor’s toes still scraped the ground.

Loki grunted again as he heaved Thor up one more time...and this time, it was enough to jostle Thor awake long enough to wrap one arm around Loki's neck, and the other around Nat. "...Got him," Loki said.

Stephen lifted Tony into a sitting position and got his bottom up off the ground just far enough for the Cloak to slip under and cradle him to Stephen's chest. " _Sh-sh-sh_ ," the doctor hummed as Tony stretched and started to whimper. " _Shhhhh_ , Bucky's coming with us, don't you worry."

“I’m goin’ wi’f Ton’ee?” Bucky looked at Steve with big hopeful eyes.

“If you want to, Bub.”

“I do wan’oo’!”

Steve offered Bucky a hand up and then pulled him into a quick hug. “Have good sleeps okay? I’m here upstairs if you need me.”

“Yea, o’gay Stee’b,” Bucky huffed, wiggling away from Steve to follow Stephen out the door. “Bye, C’yint!”

Clint snuffled and buried his face in Steve's neck.

Steve patted his backside to settle him. "Yeah, we're gonna go back to your room, with all your babies, and your blankie, and we're gonna get you a dry bottom..." he said, making sure to pick up Clint's cup and his copy of 'Dumbo'.

"Nnnnnn," Clint mumbled.

"No? You for sure need one, baby...two night-night cups make for one soggy little boy."

Clint grumbled, but his eyes had already slipped closed.

“Maybe you’ll sleep through it. Your favorite way to be changed,huh.” Steve patted Clint’s back as they headed down the hallway to Clint’s room. “I think you told my favorite version of Dumbo tonight, sweet boy. Such a good story teller...” he kissed the dozing bub's temple and gently laid him on the changing table.

Clint fussed and made grabby hands at Steve; “U’b, u’b, u’b!”

“Do you wanna hold one of your babies while I change your pants?”

Clint's face crumbled. "Stee'b," he said tearfully, and rubbed his hand across his face.

"Awww...aw, baby! You've had a long night, huh?" Steve hurried to find one of Clint's 'babies'...meaning one of the stuffed puppy characters from that 'Paw Patrol' show of his. He picked up the first one he saw--the Dalmation puppy with the firemen's hat. "Look, Clint," he cooed, holding it over Clint's face. "Who'd this baby, huh? What's his name?"

Clint snuffled and looked up, his chin dimpling. "M-m-mar'sa'," he stammered, taking it from Steve and hugging it to his neck.

“Marshall is a good boy, just like my Clint.” Steve moved quickly to get Clint out of his pajama bottoms and soggy diaper.

“M-Mar’sa goo’ pu’bby,” Clint said into the puppy’s fur. “Mar’sa sa’be the day.”

Steve wiped Clint down with practiced ease; “So Marshall is a superhero like my Clint, too? Wow!!!”

Clint blushed and hid his face in his stuffie.

“Lift up for me, sweetheart...thank you! Back down.”

Clint lowered his bottom onto his new, clean diaper and watched Steve with weary eyes, his puppy snuggled against his cheek and his thumb in his mouth. "Good boy; you're doing such a good job," Steve said gently, and dusted Clint with their bottle of green-tea scented baby powder. "Almost done."

Clint's eyes clouded over as he gazed up at Steve, his expression dreamy as he watched himself being diapered. Steve was still talking to him, cooing over him, but it was all one smooth, unending stream of calming tones to him...he was long past being able to discern any specific words.

Steve finished taping Clint into his new bedtime diaper. The baby’s eyes were mostly closed and his mouth was working a pacifier that wasn’t there. “You ready to lay down? Hmmm? Yea', we’re gunna lay down and get the rest of your babies.” Steve scooped Clint up, foregoing his sleep pants...they always went missing by morning, anyways.

The instant Clint laid his head on Steve's shoulder, he melted...his body curled around Steve's, as snug as two matching puzzle pieces.

Steve smiled at the faint _vic-vic-vic_ sound of Clint sucking his thumb right by his ear, and rubbed his hand up and down the little guy's bare back. "You're tiny..." he hummed. "Tiny enough that you should sleep in your crib...but I know you're just gonna scream the second I put you down."

Clint cooed and nuzzled his forehead in the crook of Steve's neck.

Steve chuckled quietly; "Yeah, you know what you're doing. Teeny manipulator," he said, and carried Clint to the bed.

Steve tugged back the corner of the covers, unsurprised to find another puppy tangled in the sheets. “We should make your babies their own bed.”

Clint’s only reply was to snuffle against Steve’s neck.

Steve tossed the stuffed puppy onto the other side of the bed and carefully got into bed, rearranging Clint as he went so the smol bub was laying on his chest. “We still need to have a serious talk,” he said, patting Clint’s diaper; “but that can wait until tomorrow. Maybe my drooly shoulder can be punishment enough for being careless with my words. Gotta say nice things to my Clint.”

Steve carefully unhooked one of Clint’sbright purple hearing aids, then the other, and put them on the nightstand. “We need to get another dehumidifier for this room. Jarvis?”

”Ordered, Captain.”

Clint was soon fast asleep, the days' wear and tear having taken a toll on him.

Steve smiled and tucked one of Clint's fuzzy blankets around his shoulders, then pulled the sheet over the both of them. "Sweet baby," he murmured, and kissed Clint's forehead before settling down himself.


End file.
